


Do not go gentle into that goodnight

by Angel_Bazethiel



Series: to catch and sing the sun [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: (the most important tag of all), Alternate Season/Series 04, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Lancelot (Merlin) Lives, M/M, Magic Revealed, Season/Series 04, can stand alone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-17 13:55:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21055508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angel_Bazethiel/pseuds/Angel_Bazethiel
Summary: The gods weren't supposed to play an active part in the war. But when the Veil was left wide open, The Crone decided that she had had enough. She faced the Once and Future King herself.And now, Arthur would have to be the king he was destined to be.





	Do not go gentle into that goodnight

**Author's Note:**

> Even though treated as a second part, this can stand alone. Everything canon through S01-03 happened unless said otherwise. Some Arwen moments may have been morphed into Merthur.

For over a year and a half, there were no skirmishes throughout the kingdom, save from some-odd bandit problems. A few months after Morgana fled, the trail she and her sister left had gone cold. The last thing heard of the king’s illegitimate daughter was that she headed north.

Arthur stopped looking for his sister, and his father had not enough will to protest.

Ruling the kingdom in his father’s stead was not smooth-sailing, just as he thought it would be. However, the moment of peace due to Morgana’s inactivity served well in his favour. It also helped that he was surrounded by many that supported him.

Leon, his second-in-command, had taken more initiative and it lightened his load significantly. There was his knighted who could be trusted and provided wise counsel even if they were not the best in being knights – a fact that Arthur would certainly rectify.

Even Guinevere stepped up and started to manage the domestic affairs of the household. And of course, there was Merlin. He always kept Arthur’s armour in mint condition and his chambers clean, for the most part.

There was also his uncle who went back to Camelot from Deira. He was in good service to a lord there but as soon as he heard that the king was ailing and Arthur was suddenly given plenty of responsibilities, he offered his aid without a second thought.

It was calm for over a year and a half. Then the storm came raging on Samhain.

\--

The Dorocha were the voices of the dead according to Gaius, but all the regent and his men could hear were screams. Arthur wondered how death served men. Would it be torment – for that was what the screams were of – for all eternity? Would the dead ever rest?

One touch of theirs could kill any man. They almost lost Merlin because of it and that fueled Arthur’s determination. The terror must end. The Veil must close.

“It is not often we have visitors.” An old lady in black robes with a simple staff welcomed them as half of the party entered the castle ruins’ then-great hall. The other half was fighting off wyverns outside.

“Put an end to this.” Arthur took a steady step, head held high and voice with the might of a king. “I demand you heal the tear between the worlds.”

With sorrowful and tired eyes, the woman – Cailleach Gaius had said, if Arthur’s memory served him – retorted, “It was not I who created this horror. Why should it be I who stops it?”

Merlin’s reply was immediate, “Because innocent people are dying.”

Arthur could not keep the small smile. His manservant’s insolence surely was not all reserved for royalty. Never mind that he was talking to _a goddess_. When lives were at stake, Merlin could never just stand idly by.

Cailleach frowned and sighed deeply, “Very unfortunate indeed.”

“I know what you want.” The prince took another step. He heard someone take two, but he did not drop The Crone’s gaze to see who. No matter. It was _Arthur’s_ duty to guarantee the safety of Camelot even if it would cost him his life. Whoever had the ridiculous notion of laying their life for his must never succeed in doing so. Especially if it was his idiot manservant.

“Do you?” The goddess challenged.

“You call for blood to close the Veil. I am prepared to pay the price that’s necessary.”

He expected many things, but Cailleach’s laughter was far from them. It filled the hall, cold and shrill, almost drowning out the Dorocha’s screams.

“Oh young Pendragon, where have you heard such a ridiculous claim? I have no thirst for blood, and neither does the earth. We have already drowned by the spill of Uther’s reign.”

That’s that then. Arthur clenched his fists and tried his best to maintain his resolve. “Then what is it you want? Gold? Lands?”

“I have no need for mortal worth.” Amusement clear in the goddess’ answer.

“Then what do you want from me?”

The goddess hummed, “Time often forgets.”

She then approached them. Her billowing cloak left dark fire-like shadows at her wake. “You have to _understand_, Arthur Pendragon, that the tearing of the Veil was not of my doing. Two who call themselves our priestesses have defiled an ancient rite, but they are not the only ones to blame.”

Arthur met her halfway and now they stood on opposite sides of a stone plinth placed in the middle of the hall. Merlin and his two knights, Lancelot and Gwaine, started to follow but he held his hand out to them. The goddess addressed _him_ fully, this was between him and her.

“Tonight was supposed to be a time to honour the dead,” she continued, “to let them walk among us once more. For hundreds of years, the people sacrificed their finest cattle and their most golden wheat. The Isle would be filled by the living, both in spirit and in flesh. The night would be cold, yes, but there would also be warmth. Sorrow and merriment would ring through the air. Despair and hope would wash down the land.”

The goddess regarded the prince with accusing eyes that made Arthur feel small. “There was Balance in all until your father desecrated this very castle. Now, there is no one left to guard the Veil. No one left to hold back the violent spirits.”

Then her anger, contained within the criticism, turned into disgust. “All the while, you hold feasts for Samhain without knowing what it means. Like it is not the day of Turning. You speak of it like it isn’t sacred. Have you known of its true value, then you would also know the exchange that you ask of.”

Arthur bristled. He was prince, first and foremost, and his father was his king. To admit that Uther was wrong was treason.

However, he cannot stop the gnawing resentment for both his father and the goddess. The former for the insinuation that he caused this whole ordeal. And the latter for making him and his people pay for a king’s actions long before them.

“Why are you telling me this?” Arthur all but spat.

“Only by knowing the grievances of the past can you make amends with the future.”

“So how can I? How can I atone for the sins of my family?”

“The exchange required is not between two worlds, but rather between two times.” The Crone smiled, wicked and toothy. “Celebrate the Turning of the Wheel, Arthur Pendragon. Shed your kingdom’s dry, rotting leaves so that it may be fruitful when Beltane comes.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I think you know, young Pendragon,” the goddess raised an eyebrow.

She wished for him to remove the ban on magic.

But he was still a prince. And, regent he may be, he does not have enough power over the council to do so. Also, he may disagree with his father sometimes but never in his life did he think of undoing his life’s work.

Well, that was a lie. He once did but that was when he was still a naïve child. After everything, the close encounters with death, the Great Dragon, Morgana and Morgause, his resolve that there was no place for magic in Camelot became as strong as steel.

But if there was no other way then perhaps there could be.

“And you will close the Veil?” Arthur left no room for anything else and the goddess’ answer was outrageous.

“As much as I want to, I cannot. A bargain was struck with the land. One that no one, not even a god, can unmade.”

The prince nearly yanked his hair out. “Then what was the point of all this?” Had they been fighting a lost cause all along?

“The tear between the worlds will heal on its own, but the Balance cannot be repaired without action. Accept the Turning of Age, Arthur Pendragon, and Albion will prevail.”

“But what about the people of _Camelot_? They are dying _right now_.”

“There are still those who remember, scattered and hiding. Release them from the mortal laws of your father and they will know what to do.”

“I can’t—“ Arthur tried, words stuck in his throat. He finally admitted, “I don’t know how. My father still lives and I am not king yet.”

“You only need to speak the words. Your intent will be felt by those who can. A promise is all it takes and the deaths will stop.” It was supposed to be reassuring. A promise for a promise. However, Arthur could not help but think of how cunning magic users can be.

As if Cailleach could read his mind, she raised a brow. “I suppose I should not fault you for your hesitance. Very well. Start small, as all legends do. Exonerate our followers, those who used to live here.” She looked up around the hall as though she saw how the castle once was. She muttered in a soft voice, “They are the scarcest now, second only to the dragonlords.”

Gaius had told him a brief history of the Isle of the Blessed. It housed a congregation of priests and priestesses and their High Nine. It was a place of worship to their patron goddesses, The Crone and The Triple Goddess. _Followers of Balance_, they called themselves, as they have power over the scales between death and birth. A shiver ran on his spine. Could he allow such powerful beings roam free in his kingdom?

The goddess held the prince’s gaze once more, cutting through his musings. “Once they know that they would not be killed for doing their duty, they will act accordingly. Your people will be safe and it would appease the gods, especially Brighid. It is the most desirable outcome anyone could ask for.”

It was also extortion, Arthur thought bitterly. This whole exchange just proved how manipulative magic was and that it lacked virtue.

He did not have enough information about this to make a proper decision, but he was pressured to make it quick. All the while he most dreaded a question. What if he would merely exchange one threat for another?

“How much longer will the Veil stay open?”

The Crone considered shortly. “Morgause was at her prime when she chose death and she was very powerful. The Veil would be open for three days more. A week at the latest.”

Camelot would not survive for that long. He rubbed his face and pinched the bridge of his nose.

He turned to his companions for answers, but he found none. At least none that he thought fit. They all grew up outside Camelot. They had not an idea of how dangerous this decision was.

Except maybe Merlin. He had been with Arthur for half a decade now, surely he knew. But Merlin was stoic, eyes never betraying what he truly thought. It was a bit unsettling. He could always turn to Merlin when he became unsure.

This was the first time in a long while that Arthur felt truly alone.

Resigned, he turned to the goddess. If his decision turned out to be the wrong one, he would face the consequences head on. For now, “I, Arthur Pendragon, the future king of Camelot, pledge allegiance to Brighid and Cailleach. Protection of my sword and sanctuary of my kingdom shall be provided for their patronage.”

There was no fanfare or magical lights show. Only silence and the dark. His sole voice reverberated across the hall, bouncing back to him and shaking him to the core. With bated breath, he stared at the goddess. A small smile was all he was given.

“Is it done?” He prompted.

“There is hope for all of us after all.”

Then in a blink, she was gone.

A few still moments passed before his three other knights came rushing in.

“Your highness!” Leon exclaimed. “The wyverns retreated and so did the Dorocha. We hoped that…” He trailed off as he saw the bluish still-very-open tear. “I don’t understand.”

“The quest is done. Time to leave for Camelot.” When he saw his first knight’s doubtful look, he shook his head. “There is nothing else we could do.”

\--

Merlin wished he had done more to help his prince. But Arthur needed to decide for himself if he was to be the destined king. Besides, he hadn’t determined then whether he wanted Arthur to comply with Cailleach’s terms.

On one hand, those of the Isle were Nimueh’s people. They were also the ones that taught Morgause. Who was to say they had no ill intent towards Camelot just like their pupils? On the other, it was as The Crone had said. This could be the first step of bringing magic back to Camelot.

He did not know until they filed out the castle. He only knew for sure when first light touched his prince and his most trusted knights. The darkest hour had passed and a new age was dawning.

The journey home was quiet. There had not been an attack, either from the Spirits or bandits. Gwaine attempted to elevate the sombre mood, but everyone was too tired and the weight of what happened slumped their backs. Even Merlin did not have the energy to prattle about.

However, the manservant did _want_ to say something. He wanted to apologise to his prince for closing off. He wanted to reassure him that he made the right decision. But even with the right words, he couldn’t compose anything to say.

They reached Howden near noon the next day. This time, the village was bustling. There were people to welcome the party. The village leader, a young madam named Cora, approached the prince.

“Your Highness,” she bowed deeply. “The villagers of Howden thank you for eliminating the threat.”

“We were simply doing our duty. We hope we weren’t too late.”

“The dead are many, but so are the rest of us that remain. We are only grateful that we are alive to remember those who passed.”

“I’ll personally make sure there would be enough compensation.”

“You are too kind, Your Highness.”

Arthur smiled and bowed his head in return. The show of humility warmed Merlin’s heart. He sent a smile of his own to his prince.

They were about to set out when the village leader said, “There is another matter, my lord. The Spirits… they didn’t just disappear. They were herded away by people, hooded and nameless. They used magic, my lord.”

They must have been the people of the Isle. Merlin worried that whatever Cora would say, it would paint them in a grotesque colour. However, it seemed that it wasn’t only his prince that had the knack of bewildering unwitting warlocks.

“But I must say that the village hopes you pardon them. They saved us, even if we were strangers that have nothing to pay them for it.”

Arthur looked surprised as much as Merlin felt. He cleared his throat and regained his composure. “Of course. Thank you for letting me know.” Then he led them through the forest once more.

\--

The company arrived by nightfall. It was too late to convene the council so the prince went straight to his rooms. Merlin, of course, followed him.

Inside the prince’s chambers, he found Arthur already stripping his armour off piece by piece. Arthur jumped when he started to help him.

“Merlin,” Arthur said as he was setting the gorget down on the table. “You must be exhausted, you may go.”

The manservant rolled his eyes. “And leave you to fend for yourself?” And then went on and lifted Arthur’s mail. He turned to fetch his prince’s sleep clothes and handed them to him. As Arthur was changing his clothes, Merlin prepared the bed.

It was too cold, as was the room, for being unslept on for five nights. Since he was facing away from the prince, he asked his magic to urge the heat from the hearth to cover them faster. It would not do for the prince to not have a cosy bed.

Satisfied, he looked back to the prince. He took in Arthur’s rumpled look and sighed. He went over and smoothed down his hair and shirt. His hands lingered on Arthur’s shoulders.

When Merlin finally noticed what he was doing and how close they were, he started to drop his hands and stepped back. Only Arthur caught his wrists lightly.

“Merlin.” His prince said once again.

He did not know what to say to that so he opted for what he had been wanting to say. “You did well, Arthur.”

“Did I?”

He shrugged. “The Dorocha have stopped.”

“And what of the pact I made? If my father comes back to his wits, he would be furious.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when it comes. Tonight is not for the worries of tomorrow. Tonight, we rest.”

Arthur absentmindedly stroked his wrists with his thumbs. And Merlin let himself become lost in his prince’s eyes. A few heartbeats passed then Arthur let his hand fall. He thought he was officially dismissed but his prince brought him into his arms.

“Arthur?”

“Just… let me hold you.”

Not being able to deny his prince he let his head fall on his shoulder.

“I almost lost you,” Arthur said, voice muffled.

“I’ll never leave you, Arthur.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. Especially since you’re so adamant on sacrificing yourself.”

“I really won’t though.”

“I wasn’t just talking about the Dorocha.” Arthur sounded frustrated. “You collapsed during the feast. I know I’ve been working you too hard, especially now that I’m regent, but I didn’t know it was to the point where you would faint like the big girl you are.”

Right. That seemed like a lifetime ago. “I’m fine, Arthur.”

“Are you really? Exhaustion. Almost dying. You’ve been through a lot the past few days. Do you not value your life at all?” His hold grew tighter. He clicked his tongue, “You know what? Don’t come in tomorrow.”

“But—“

“I am the prince and I order you to rest. Really, Merlin? You complain that I don’t give you any time off, but when I do you’re still whining.”

Arthur finally released him with a sigh. “You may go.”

Merlin stayed for a moment, unsure of what to do. He settled on saying, “Goodnight, Arthur.”

He was already halfway out the door when he heard his prince’s reply, “Sweet dreams, Merlin.”

When his manservant left, Arthur went to bed with the memory of Merlin in his arms and how much it felt like it was how it should always be. A faint singing he assumed he was imagining lulled him to sleep.

\--

Merlin did not know what to do with all this free time. Don’t get him wrong, it was a nice change to take a breath every once in a while, but he had not expected it to be this dull.

He also did not expect silence could be so loud.

He was leafing through his magic book – which by now, he probably had read at least a hundred times – when he heard Agravaine come in the physician’s chamber. The exchange between the lord and Gaius had Merlin come out when it ended.

“There’s only one person who could’ve heard that name,” his mentor said. “Morgana. We know her powers are growing. She, too, must have seen Cailleach.”

“But Agravaine…” Merlin shook his head because it could not be. It would crush Arthur if he were to find it out.

“I suspect he’s not as virtuous as he seems. And, don’t forget, he has every reason to despise Uther. We must beware, Merlin. Morgana can never know the truth. She must never know who you really are.”

“About that…” Merlin rubbed the back of his neck. He might as well tell his mentor the thoughts that had been plaguing him. “Are we sure that I am Emrys?”

Gaius’ eyebrow went up. “It is what the druids call you, correct?”

“But what if they were wrong?” He wrung his hands and settled on the stairs to his bedchamber. He bowed his head, fretting his forearm.

The physician set down his tools and went to sit beside his ward. “What brought this on? You never had doubts before.”

“It’s just… my magic didn’t work on the Dorocha. But there were people that are able to herd them away. Morgana is probably thinking that it was Emrys that stopped the Spirits, and it wasn’t me. Maybe I’m not Emrys. I’m surely not knowledgeable enough.” He finished bitterly.

Gaius sighed. “Magic, as we had recently been reminded, has a lot of branches and no one can learn them all. Even you, Merlin. You only have the one book of magic I gave you and it does not have the entirety of magical lore.”

He patted Merlin’s back. “Besides I don’t think it is the amount of your power or your expertise that makes you Emrys.”

Merlin turned his head to look at Gaius. “Then what does?”

“What do you often say to Arthur that is the making of a king?” He smiled at his ward. “Your heart, Merlin. You might have made mistakes in the past, but they don’t mean your intentions were any less pure. You try your hardest to do good unto others and you inspire them to also do so. Your heart is strong and that is why I know you will help Arthur become a great king.”

Merlin returned his mentor’s smile and hugged him. “Thanks, Gaius. That made me feel so much better.”

“Now will you stop moping in your room?”

He baulked, “I was not!”

“And may I suggest you go visit Gwen. She had quite a scare while you were away.”

“Nah, I really don’t fancy it. If what you say is true then Lance would be there ‘comforting’ her and I don’t want to be in the room when that happens.”

And yet, he was out to the door with a spring in his step to do just that.

\--

A day without Merlin was not a day Arthur would want to repeat ever again. It was not a bad one, per se, the prince just preferred he spent it with his manservant.

He had a council meeting that took all morning. It was endless reports of damage and casualties due to the Dorocha. There was also news of hooded figures that lured the Spirits away, just as Cora had said. They never spoke to anyone else or asked for anything in exchange for saving Camelot, but Arthur knew who they were and that there had already been a price paid.

Despite the blatant use of magic, none in the council had raised any requests for arrest of the group.

“From what you told us, my lord,” One of the council members, Lord Hoel, said, “It is the will of the gods to let them roam free. They are already few, the must have posed no threat.”

Another one, Lord Josef, added, “We could always hunt them down once the Veil closes.”

That left a bitter taste in Arthur’s mouth. “No,” he said, “I gave Cailleach my word. No harm will befall them as long as they do not attack us. Everyone will honour this truce. Do I make myself clear?”

The council nodded or some other attestation – except for his unusually quiet uncle – and they carried on to their next agenda.

After that, the day had been a blur and not once had he seen his wayward manservant.

Well, he _did_ give the man the day off. Never mind the pang in his chest that came with the insight that Merlin would not spend it with him.

Grumbling, he prepared himself for bed.

As he got on his bed he heard a whistling, almost tinkling, sound. It must have been the wind so he moved to close the window, except it wasn’t open.

“Arthur…” That was definitely not just any indiscernible sound.

“Who’s there?”

“Arthur,” The voice was clearer now that he sought for it. Before him, a spirit formed. All wispy and cloudy until it took shape of a woman with golden hair as his.

The prince moved to hold her and choked out, “Mother?”

Said woman held up her hand to stop him. “Easy now, little bear. We wouldn’t want you to freeze to death.”

“How..?”

“The Veil allows the dead to live in spirit.” She reminded him. “Gods, I’ve waited so long to talk to you.”

“And I you, mother.”

“Look at how much you’ve grown! I hear you’re king in all but name.” Her eyes shone with pride.

“It’s a work in progress.” Arthur was suddenly abashed. His mother looked exactly how she was the last time he saw her. No, it wasn’t her, Merlin said. But he needed to be sure. “Morgause…”

Even though he couldn’t finish, Ygraine understood. “That was me. It was real, but she twisted my words, Arthur. You were born of magic, yes, but it was _my_ choice as much as your father’s. A choice that I would gladly choose a thousand times over, just so I could see you smile. Will you smile for me, cariad?”

Arthur allowed a sound that was both a sob and a laugh. He smiled from ear to ear for his mother. His mother that was here.

They talked. Well, Ygraine did while he revelled in his mother’s stories. Arthur didn’t know much about her since any remembrance of her was wiped in all the records. His father won’t even say her name. And everyone was too afraid of the king to speak about her. So he soaked up all her anecdotes, of the life she had, of her ambitions, of her love for his father.

It was nearing dawn when she got a bit melancholic. “Every moment away from your father is like dying over and over again. Hollowness is all that I feel and I try to catch my breath that’s long gone. I know he feels the same for me. And it hurts more to see him like this, reduced to a shell of a man.”

Her hand hovered over his. “Any mother wouldn’t wish that for her child. I only wish you love, Arthur.”

The heat in Arthur’s cheeks was more embarrassing than the fact that his mind impulsively went to a certain someone at his mother’s overtone. “I – erm, there isn’t anyone in my life yet.”

“Really?” Mischief was evident in her face. “How about that serving boy you held in your arms last night?”

_Of course,_ she knew about that. The warmth now reached his collar. “_Mer_lin? No. I mean – he’s Merlin.” He concluded lamely.

“He cares for you deeply. And I know you feel the same. He, on the other hand, isn’t sure where he stands in your life.” She leaned to him and whispered as if they were conspiring against the crown. “A bit of motherly advice, tell him.”

Arthur sighed and let his shoulders droop. Ygraine wanted to say more, but the first crow of the cockerels started. “It’s around this time that your father wakes up. I always try to be there when he does. Sometimes it’s as if he could actually see me even though I have no form in the day.”

She stood up. “You can also have that if you so choose. You can have the person you love be the first you see every morning. Although,” she tilted her head, “him being your manservant, you already have that I suppose.”

She turned, only to face him again. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She pursed her lips, her next words were careful. “When the time comes, please find it in yourself to forgive.”

“What do you mean?”

His mother shook her head and gave him a sad smile. “You’ll find out soon enough.” And with that, she turned to mist.

\--

Merlin started his day early, a miracle Gaius called it. He figured it was the least he could do for Arthur. Actually having his breakfast at the right time should be thanks enough for the break the prince had given him.

It absolutely had nothing to do with missing the prat or anything.

He entered the prince’s chambers and found that Arthur was already awake. Pity, he wanted to drag the man out of bed himself.

“You’re up!” A bizarre parody of the morning of Samhain’s Eve. However, this time the prince’s eyes were distant and no quip was thrown. Observing him, he looked like he had not a wink of sleep. His hair wasn’t bedraggled and shadows were starting to form under his eyes, which are a bit red. He was sitting at the foot of his bed and was staring at nothing.

“Ah,” Merlin tried again. “You’re going to be hard to deal with today. Poor knights. Lance said you were already grumpier than usual during yesterday’s training.”

Arthur finally focused his eyes, breath drawn out as he was rising from whatever sea his thoughts were. “I’m the prince, Merlin. Princes have no time for such petty emotions.” He said, _very grumpily_.

“Yeah,” Merlin gave him an indulgent smile. “Your time has better use such as receiving envoys from Eofham and Balor.” His prince groaned and fell into the bed. “None of that. Let’s get you ready for the day!”

“How are you chipper so early in the morning?”

The manservant shrugged. “It’s a part of my charm.”

Arthur sighed, “Of course it is.” Then he pulled himself off the bed. Although, he did not go to the table where his food was. Instead, he went to his bedside drawer, the one that had a lock in it.

“Arthur?”

The prince opened and closed the drawer in quick successions and approached Merlin, holding a small pouch. Inside was a flat, circular piece of metal that Arthur presented to him.

It was about the size of his palm. A binding circle, inlaid with a cross, was on its face. The spaces between the bars were embossed with swirling patterns that resembled fire. In the middle was a simple image of a bird.

“This is silver,” Arthur stated, looking put upon. Most probably because it was not the best starting line. “A common thief would melt it down and then sell it. However, since it is light and small it wouldn’t sell for much.”

“Okay?” Merlin sounded unsure. Had his prince turned mad overnight?

“Its price is very low,” he continued, “but it is not without worth. This belonged to my mother. It bears her sigil. Maybe it can serve a reminder that while you may be just a servant, your life is no more precious than mine.” He placed the object on Merlin’s hand.

Merlin’s eyes grew wide and he tried to give it back to his prince. “Arthur, I can’t–“

“Just… take it.”

“Are you ill? What brought this on?”

“Your idiocy, what else?”

Merlin chuckled and relaxed because that was proof enough. “Dollophead,” he couldn’t help but say.

He stared at the sigil in his hand. He _knew_ what it meant. He understood its implications. What he didn’t understand was _why_. Why was Arthur doing this? They never addressed whatever it was between them, so why now?

He was so consumed by his thoughts that he didn’t notice Arthur leaning in. The next thing the manservant knew was their noses were touching and Arthur saying, “Stop thinking.” And then he inclined his head so their lips met.

They kissed before in a total number of two times. A fact that Merlin never told anyone. And one that both parties certainly had not discussed.

The first one was during the Vivian fiasco when Gwen insisted that Merlin was the one who would break the love spell. That kiss was desperate and forceful. It was unforgiving with only the slightest bit of hope. And then it ended too soon, with the reminder of Arthur’s upcoming duel.

The second was after they took back the castle from the immortal army. Blood pumping and determined, Arthur grabbed Merlin while the latter was rushing about, going from one injured person to another. That kiss was passionate and fierce. It was hot with the sheer relief of being alive. And then a patient griped in pain and it, too, had to end.

They both left Merlin breathless, but _this kiss_ was different. It was soft and more sensuous. It was like he was breathing Arthur in, like his prince was giving him life. It was a silent plea and a declaration. _Be safe,_ it was saying. _I wouldn’t know what to do without you._

There was no sense of urgency so they took their time. And even when they finally broke away, Arthur didn’t let him go too far. Instead, he rested his forehead against Merlin’s, savouring the moment.

Arthur was mirroring his grin. And with a final peck, he announced, “It’s a brand new day.” He tugged the manservant by the hand. “Come join me for breakfast.”

Merlin rolled his eyes but followed his prince.

A brand new day, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, the very famous trope based on the [deleted scene where Arthur proposed to Merlin.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jP7Q1nOjQZo) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) <s>bring that trope back</s>

**Author's Note:**

> ┬┴┬┴┤(･_├┬┴┬┴


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